


that's what (girl)friends are for

by C_AND_B



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: 4+1 kinda, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 09:57:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11377836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C_AND_B/pseuds/C_AND_B
Summary: Dates that aren't really 'dates' and the one time Kara plucks up the courage to make it a real one.





	that's what (girl)friends are for

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the slight disappearance. Since I wing everything I got 10,000 words into a fic before I realised I had no idea where I was going, so I started this one and also had no idea where I was going but it exists now and I'm hoping it's not shit (disclaimer - I know little to nothing about physics so that's promptly skipped over). There's also a few POV shifts, I think I made them obvious but if anyone is confused please let me know.
> 
> Anyway, hope y'all enjoy!!

The first time Kara and Lena end up on a date that isn’t really a date is also the first time they manage to make brunch. It took a few weeks of Lena’s not so subtle hinting (read: outright saying) that Kara should eat healthier foods for Kara to finally agree to go to the new organic restaurant that had opened across town. It took a few days for their schedules to line up. It only took a few hours for Lena to realise that maybe their friend lunch wasn’t as innocent as she first imagined.

She hadn’t thought anything of the flowers she handed Kara as she arrived to pick her up - it was just their ‘thing’. She hadn’t really questioned not telling Kara that she looked beautiful in her blue sundress, hadn’t questioned the thought process that had the words spilling out; Kara just looked nice, plain and simple.

She hadn’t even debated whether or not she should subtly direct Kara with a gentle hand on her back, or if she should open the door and pull out her chair for her. She just did. And then promptly excused the actions by telling herself it was polite, by telling herself she definitely wasn’t doing it to watch Kara’s soft, thankful smiles or to receive a soft brush of fingers down her arm in gratitude.

Definitely not.

Lena didn’t bother to police the endeared smile on her lips, or stop Kara’s hand from resting atop her own when they got to darker topics of conversation, in fact, Lena had embraced it, had let her fingers twine with Kara’s in one unintelligible mess because that’s what they did.

That’s what _friends_ did.

They protected one another from harm, and comforted one another when they were down, and made each other smile more than anyone else in the world (or so Lena had gathered from her friendship with Kara, otherwise known as, her first female friendship built on mutual admiration and understanding rather than a mutual hope to gain something).

So Lena hadn’t thought anything about it, not until...

“Do you know what your girlfriend would like or do you want to wait until she’s back to order?” Girlfriend. Not friend. Not female friend. _Girlfriend._ She just called Kara her girlfriend. She just called Kara her girlfriend, and she has a rainbow pin and a quietly delighted smile on, so she definitely meant _girlfriend_ girlfriend. Romantic girlfriends.

Lena can’t quite bring herself to reply, can’t quite figure out where to even begin, although in hindsight perhaps a simple _she’s not my girlfriend_ would have sufficed. However, instead of actually replying, Lena just silently stares. She can’t remember the last time she was shocked into silence, can’t remember the last time she didn’t have some quip already on the tip of her tongue.

Lena has arguably never been more thankful to see Kara than in the moment she appears, windswept and apologetic that her ‘need for air’ had lasted about fifteen more minutes than expected.

“Okay, I’m back and I’m ready to eat the healthiest thing on the menu per this one’s request,” Kara says, a little breathless and disorientated, and there’s definitely a spark of blue poking out from beneath her collar, and usually Lena would make some double edged comment.

Usually Lena would hint that she knows Kara’s secret or make some joke to see if Kara would finally fumble her way into admittance. Not this time. This time she simply stares blankly at Kara and wonders how long people have thought this, wonders how many people have assumed that their lunches are something more, assumed that _they_ were something more.

This time she can’t think anything other than _girlfriends, girlfriends, girlfriends_.

“Trying to keep you alive a little longer?” The waitress quips good naturedly, clearly revelling in the grin Kara sends back her way as she takes a quick, jokingly suspicious look around the room before beckoning the girl an inch closer.

“Between you and me, I’m a little afraid she’s trying to kill me. I guess we’ll see how the...” Kara scans the menu with clear distaste and Lena thinks she might have laughed if her throat wasn’t already clogged with a singular word, if her mind was fixated on trying to sort through its own thoughts “...kale salad tastes.”

“And for you?”

“The same, thank you.” Those were real words. That was an actual sentence. An actual coherent sentence with niceties and a polite smile for good measure. Maybe Lena could actually do this. Maybe she was having a slight meltdown over nothing. People probably got mistaken as a couple all the time. It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean her subconscious actions had a deeper meaning than she first imagined. It didn’t mean she felt anything other than friendship for Kara.

It didn’t.

It _doesn’t_.

“So kale?”

“You’re going to love it.” She doesn’t love it. In fact, Kara steadfastly hates kale, so much so that Lena wouldn’t be surprised to find an article talking about the horrors of the green leaf penned by Kara Danvers herself in the next CatCo issue.

Lena can’t help the laugh that bubbles from her chest when Kara visibly grimaces with her first bite, swallowing harshly and setting her disapproving gaze on Lena like she’s willing her to apologise for the taste, or at least offer some sympathy instead of amusement. Lena doesn’t. Kara keeps eating.

Honestly Lena’s half surprised she manages to eat any of her own meal through the smile on her lips. A permanent smile that’s a direct result of Kara continuing to eat the kale in front of her. She flinches with every bite, and quietly mumbles her disgust when conversation quietens, but she never stops. Not once. She doesn’t even seem to debate giving up and Lena can’t stop smiling because she knows that Kara is doing it for her, because Lena likes it, because Lena asked her to give it a go.

It’s in the moment that Kara takes her last bite and pumps her fist in victory, looking like she’s half ready to take a victory lap around the restaurant, before going in for a high-five that Lena easily acquiesces to, that Lena admits to herself  that maybe they are something more (to Lena at least) because she’s enamoured with Kara’s infectious grin, and charmed by her easy nature, and in awe of the ease in which she navigates people, in which she navigates the walls Lena had spent years building, and that Kara had slipped through within the space of a few short months.

Kara is nothing short of a miracle.

A beautiful, kind, slightly dorky miracle, who attempts a glare when Lena suggests she could try the kale in an omelette next time but only really succeeds in producing a pout - albeit a pout good enough to have Lena offering to make their next outing to Kara’s favourite hotdog cart in the park.

Lena blushes at the scribble on the receipt, the one that claims they’re the _cutest couple ever_ and has enough haphazardly drawn smiley faces that it rivals one of Kara’s text messages. She tries to convince herself it’s not anything like a date once again when she pays quickly and listens to Kara tell her she’ll get it next time. She tries to play the blush on her cheeks off as nothing more than being a little overheated but she definitely does better with the prior than the latter.

“She gave you her number didn’t she?” Kara inquires with an edge to her tone that Lena can’t quite place, an edge that she doesn’t think she’s ever heard Kara use before, one that Kara probably never uses if the foreign way it falls from her mouth is anything to go by. “Isn’t she a little young for you?” She continues, eyeing the waitress from across the room, instinctively smiling back when the girl offers her a friendly grin.

“She’s at least in college, Kara and, despite the power suits and my expert ability to apply lipstick, I’m still only twenty-four.” She doesn’t know why she’s arguing this. She doesn’t have the girls number, wouldn’t even really know what she would do with it if she did (except that she does - she would promptly throw it away and then launch herself into work mode and continue to pretend that the world of romance doesn’t exist because her past endeavours hadn’t gone so well).

“So you’re gonna call her?” Kara attempts to seem casual. She fails. Miserably. She sounds slightly agitated if anything and Lena can’t imagine why, assumes it’s down to Kara’s overprotective nature and her need to make sure everything, and everyone, she cares about is always okay. It’s sweet really. As is the way she unthinkingly helps Lena into her jacket when they stand, straightening her collar with gentle hands and a pleased grin when she gets the result she desires.

“No,” Lena replies simply, and it’s true because she still doesn’t have the girls number, and also because she’s still reeling from the realisation that there’s a very specific reason as to why Kara is the only person with unrestricted access to her office, the only one allowed to breach her personal space bubble, the only person who she’s comfortable enough around to laugh until she snorts.

“You’re just going to leave her waiting for your call?” Was Kara trying to get her to call now? Fifteen seconds after insinuating the girl was too young? Lena should really just brave the embarrassment of Kara finding out they’d been mistaken as couple and avoid all of this. It was confusing. So _incredibly_ confusing.

“I really don’t think she’s going to spend anytime pining over me through her cell, Kara.” Lena gestures for Kara to enter first as she pulls the car door open, but her words seem to make Kara freeze immediately as she turns to stare earnestly into Lena’s eyes.

“Of course she would,” Kara says with conviction. “You’re pretty, and smart, and accomplished. I’d definitely be upset if I put myself out there and you didn’t call me.”

“Well I’ll be sure to always pick up the phone to you then,” Lena jokes through the tension, through the lump in her throat and the out of tempo thump in her chest. Kara slips in the car at the sight of Lena’s soft smile, seemingly happier than before, but there’s an air to her on the drive back. A distant coldness that Lena never thought she would ever associate with Kara Danvers.

It disappears the second Lena follows her from the car to hug her under the shade of her apartment entrance. Kara melts into a puddle of warmth the moment Lena’s arms wrap around her without Kara having to initiate the contact. Her genuine smile returns with the soft press of Lena’s lips to her cheek, with a kiss that falls a little too close to the mouth to be entirely platonic.

But Lena’s confusion doesn’t disappear, in actuality it multiplies tenfold, because if she didn’t know any better, Lena would say Kara seemed jealous. But she did know better. She knew that they weren’t together, weren’t really girlfriends, and this wasn’t a date.

It wasn’t a date.

So why did it feel like one?

* * *

 

After getting tricked into eating kale for a second time (no it wasn’t any better in an omelette), and then talked into something called quinoa that Kara would argue is kryptonite adjacent, Kara insists on picking the next brunch spot.

It’s a testament to how far they’ve come that she doesn’t question bringing Lena to a rundown diner, hidden between newly renovated hipster cafes and chain restaurants.

It’s a sign of how much Kara cares for Lena that she brings her here. Here being the place she always comes when everything gets too much and she just needs to eat an inhuman amount of pancakes that are drizzled in way too much syrup to be healthy. Here being a place that she’s only ever shown Alex and Winn - both at their lowest points, when Kara knew a good plate of waffles could do more than she ever could to make them smile again.

And now she was showing Lena.

It felt private. It felt intimate. It felt like a place she should want to bring Mon-El, a place she should want to share with the person who was supposed to be the most important in her life but instead she wanted to show Lena.

Lena who probably needed a place to hide when things got stressful. Lena who kept losing everyone close to her. Lena who knew Kara needed to hear a friendly voice just because her tone lacked its usual sunshine. Lena who knew nothing of what Kara had really been struggling with, and yet, still took the time out of her day to check in. Lena who sent dramatic flower arrangements as a thank you and who hugged with soft precision like she was both afraid of, and starved for, physical affection. Lena who was Kara’s best friend.

“You have to get something with bacon,” Kara insists with all sincerity when the waiter appears because if she had to put kale in her mouth – _twice, no less_ – then Lena was having something with bacon, and then just another side of bacon for good measure (and so Kara could steal some).

“Oh, I _have_ to, do I?”

“Those are the rules of the diner, Lena. It’s bacon or bust.”

“Well I’d hate to break the diner rules; the Luthor name might get a bad reputation.” Lena winks, smiling easily and Kara revels in the laughter she allows herself to produce. It’s nice how comfortable Lena is with her, how she lets herself makes jokes about something that used to make her flinch, how she turned something that used to torment her into something to laugh about. It’s more than nice. The soft, content smile on her face is more than nice. It’s startling. It’s hopeful. It’s everything.

“We wouldn’t want that.”

“I guess I’ll have to go with bacon waffles then,” Lena says resolutely, putting her menu down with precision and searching Kara’s face almost as though she’s looking for approval of her choice, as though she’s checking she’s made the right move. Kara smiles quickly, putting her own menu down without a second thought and momentarily turning her attention to the waiter.

“Oh yeah! Make that two, with extra bacon, and then I’ll also take a stack of chocolate chip pancakes.” She’d probably have to eat again in another hour or so but it’s not like she could have gone with her usual order of-

“Not going for the super stack challenge today? Trying not to scare your girl off before you’ve locked her down?” The waiter (Kara’s been here enough to know his name is Max and that he’s getting far too much amusement out of the situation he’s creating than he should) jokes, and then Kara is blushing, and Lena is definitely blushing as she avoids all possible eye contact, and Max just smiles knowingly as he assures them it’ll be right out and wanders off.

_Your girl._

_Your._

As in _Kara’s._

Kara starts talking then. Rambling, really. Spewing, one might call it. She just says anything and everything that comes to mind in a vain attempt to clear her head. _Your girl_. Kara tells Lena about her time in college. _Your girl._ Kara asks Lena about her favourite things - colours, flowers, music, films, books, painting. _Your girl_. Kara confesses her love for ‘N Sync. It’s gets a little out of hand but Lena smiles encouragingly and knows more about them than Alex ever did, or Winn and James managed to retain for her benefit. _Your girl_. _Your girl. Your girl._

So Kara talks, and talks, and talks, and Lena listens with a subtle smile tugging at her lips and her gaze fixed on Kara like she’s trying to prove that she’s giving her full attention, except her eyes are dimmer than usual - cautious, questioning - and her shoulders are tensed like she’s bracing herself to say something, preparing to ask a question she’s doesn’t look ready to hear the answer for, and Kara wants to wait. Kara wants to give her time to build up to it on her own but she also isn’t the most patient person ever, even if she has recently worked a little on asking first and punching later.

“Whatever it is, you can just ask.” She means it. Kara thinks she’d answer just about any question Lena asked, and with the truth. Even _that_ question. The one that goes unspoken between them on most days when Kara runs out in a hurry or appears late with a terrible excuse and an apologetic grin that has somehow managed to get her most places.

“Are you okay?” Lena rushes it out quickly but leaves no room for preamble. It’s a simple question on the surface but something tells Kara something more lingers beneath, something deeper. But whatever the depth of the question it’s not what Kara was expecting. At all.

“What?”

“The other day on the phone, when I called for advice, you sounded scared, and not over the top, screaming scared. A quiet kind of fear. The kind of fear that comes from being afraid to lose something, or someone, and from personal experience I know that type of fear is far worse, so I just want to... _need_ to know that you’re okay.” Kara blinks. Pauses. Watches as Lena evidently panics at her response, or lack thereof. “You don’t have to tell me what it was about, or what happened, or anything really, other than if you’re doing alright after whatever it is that happened.”

She hasn’t talked about it. Kara had held Alex in her arms for twenty minutes just to remind herself that she was there, and she was warmth, and breathing, and alive. She had felt Mon-El’s eyes watching her cautiously as they watched TV until she felt so suffocated under his gaze that she had to send him away. She melted into J’onn as he rested his hand reassuringly on her shoulder and had revelled in the hug she shared with Maggie and the relief she felt pouring out of it.

But she hadn’t talked about it.

Honestly, she actively avoided it.

“My sister almost died,” Kara says blankly because she should, because she needs to, because Lena immediately reaches across the table to hold her hand and it’s perfect - comforting but not overbearing, gentle but grounding, meant to fortify, and so very _Lena_.

Kara takes a shaky breath before even debating continuing. Lena runs her thumb tenderly over her wrist with each inhale, each exhale, until Kara’s heart begins to mimic the rhythm, until she falls into the solace that Lena is offering, until she manages to gather her thoughts and put them into words.

“She was in a box, locked in as water gradually rose around her and I knew. I knew that she was stuck, and scared, and only hours away from drowning, alone and terrified, and I could have done something. I could have stopped it but everyone kept talking about what was right, and what should be done, and what was expected, so I didn’t. Not until right at the end. Not until I almost lost her.”

“She’s okay?”

“She’s alive and she has Maggie.” She has Kara too, whenever she needs her, however she needs her. Kara thinks that’s enough. She really hopes that’s enough. She needs it to be enough, doesn’t know what she would do if Alex wasn’t okay, or at least on her way to being so.

“And you?” It strikes Kara in that moment that no one has asked her that yet, hits her even harder that she’s not entirely sure of the answer. Alex is safe. Alex is safe, and at home, and probably using this excuse to talk Maggie into non-vegan ice cream but Kara...

Kara’s chest is tight. Her thoughts are scattered, fuzzy, unfocused enough that she keeps slipping back to that day, that tank, that man. Her heart feels heavy, cumbersome, like it’s being held together with duct tape and wavering willpower (although it feels a little less so when Lena looks at her with warm, knowing eyes and a sympathetic smile).

“I keep dreaming about finding her lifeless body in the tank. About being two minutes too late and losing the one person who has been there for me through thick and thin, the one person who dedicated most of their life to having my back. Alex has given things up again and again to protect me, has spent her life confused about who she is because she was too busy trying to make sure I was safe and I couldn’t even protect her from some spineless stalker.” _All this power_. All this power and Kara had been powerless, and truthfully she had never been more afraid.

Not when she’d solar flared. Not when she walked into an armed robbery with no powers and an extremely broken arm. Not when she wondered whether she would gain National City’s trust back. Not since the first time she was on the verge of losing everything that meant anything to her.

“But you got her out.”

“She was in there for hours. Every time it’s quiet I can hear the rush of water, Alex gasping for breath, her hands smashing uselessly against the glass.” Kara drops to a voiceless whisper. “I’m afraid to go to sleep. I’m afraid my whole world will crumble all over again if I do.” Kara hasn’t admitted that to anyone, hasn’t admitted that she sneaks out of bed each night to sit by her window and calm herself with the steady beat of Alex’s heart, only to trickle back in when the sun rises so that Mon-El doesn’t notice her absence.

The destruction of Krypton goes unspoken between them. Kara’s truth goes unspoken. But she knows that Lena knows. She knows that the tightening of Lena’s grip is meant to reassure her, to remind her that the world is still turning, and Alex is still breathing, and Lena - Lena is there, to ground her, to shelter her, to help her out of her own head. Lena is there and Kara keeps telling herself not to dwell on the fact that this is who she chose, that this is who was her safe haven because they’re friends, and this is what friends are for.

“She’s safe, Kara. You got her out and she’s safe, and she’ll continue to be safe because that’s what you do - you protect people. You protect your friends, and you’ve protected me, and you’ll continue to protect Alex because you care, and if you ever find yourself doubting that then call me. Any day. Any time. No matter how busy I may seem, or how tired I am, you call me, and I’ll pick up.”

“Thank you,” Kara says simply but earnestly because she means it, because she hopes that it comes through that she’s thankful Lena hasn’t pushed her to spill her secrets, thankful that she’s let her get it all out, thankful that she even noticed Kara needed this in the first place.

Kara is thankful for Lena, but even as a reporter she doesn’t know how to fully put that into words so instead she carefully squeezes Lena’s hand and sends her a subdued smile that she hopes wordlessly conveys every thought bouncing erratically around her head.

“Always. Now, I think that chat might call for a double up on the bacon – I hear it’s a staple of this diner.” Lena winks and suddenly everything is back to normal, except Lena’s hand which stays clutched securely in Kara’s. Kara laughs, and Lena laughs, and Kara gets lost somewhere between deep chuckles and sporadic snorts.

She laughs more than she has in days, feels lighter than she has since before the incident. Kara supposes that’s why, when she stumbles in at two in the morning covered in soot and crumbles on her bathroom floor suddenly unable to stand the drip of her bathtub as it fills, it’s Lena that she calls, Lena that is her first choice, her only thought.

Slumped against the side of her bathtub - still half clad in her supersuit, boots and cape strewn somewhere or another - is how Lena finds her.

“Surprise?” Kara offers weakly, her voice cracking on the first syllable, after Lena spends a second too long staring at her from the doorway with a look Kara can’t quite comprehend. It’s definitely not surprise. At least, not surprise at the confirmation that her suspicions that Kara is Supergirl were correct. Although, it’s not fully worry either. More like, slightly panicked endearment or mildly amused concern.

That is until it seems to dawn upon Lena what the problem is and her face slips straight into a smirk that can only be described as mischievous. A description that is proved entirely too correct when Lena climbs straight into the tub with her clothes on - Supergirl pyjamas, Kara notes with a small smile.

“Come on then,” Lena says after a moment of Kara staring blankly in shock and Kara doesn’t even attempt to regulate the laughter that comes spilling out of her as she climbs in to face Lena, only grinning harder when the water splashes recklessly over the side.

Kara goes quiet after her laughter stops. Everything goes quiet for a second. Just a second. Then all Kara can hear is Lena’s whispering voice telling her about the rest of her day, and her hopes for a new project she’s working on, and then just nothing which is somehow also everything. All she can hear are the soft brushes as Lena slowly washes her hair, combing through the tangles and washing out any remnants of the fire Kara put out not long before.

Kara falls into her touch, misses it when Lena disappears to let her properly clean herself with a parting wink and a promise that she’ll just be in Kara’s room as she drops some pyjamas on the bathroom counter. Kara takes her time washing the dirt off her skin, takes her time surrounded by the water but comforted by the knowledge that she’ll find Lena on the other side of the door when she’s ready.

And she does, find Lena that is. Only Lena is dressed in a pair of Kara’s favourite pyjamas, her arms and legs swallowed by excess fabric and it’s adorable, and soft, and something else that makes Kara’s stomach swarm with butterflies.

She can’t help the gasp that slips from her lips at the sight of Lena resting cautiously on the edge of her bed. She can’t seem to will her feet to close the gap and it’s ridiculous. Ridiculous how weak Kara feels. Ridiculous how beautiful Lena looks with tousled hair and mismatched pyjamas, framed by a distant moon.

“I hope this is okay. I didn’t want to soak your bed, presuming you want me in it?” Kara does want her. In her bed, she means. To sleep, that is. For comfort. She doesn’t trust herself to say that aloud without stumbling over her words, however, so instead she climbs onto the bed next to Lena and eases them down into a laying position, rests her head on Lena’s shoulder before she can’t talk herself out of it.

“Is this okay?” Kara checks as she tucks her head into the curve of Lena’s neck, slipping her arm snugly around Lena’s waist, pressing their bodies impossibly close until she’s not sure whose warmth it is running through her veins, trickling across her skin.

“I said anything, remember?” Lena reminds her as she wraps her own arms securely around Kara, who practically melts into the embrace when she feels Lena’s lips press against the top of her head in reassurance. It dawns on Kara after a moment that there’s no hesitation to Lena’s touch. No question. No reluctance. It strikes her that Lena truly is happy to just lay there and hold her, that she makes no move to force Kara into anything else, that she seems to know that this is exactly what Kara needs and so she just does. She holds. She comforts. She calms.

“I know but... I’ve seen you flinch before, when people touch you.” It was always a small reaction. Subtle. Quiet. But Kara always noticed, always paid attention to the clench of Lena’s jaw and the sudden skip in her heartbeat like she was waiting for something other (something way worse) than a handshake or a hug to come her way.

“You’re not most people.”

“Because I’m your favourite?” Kara jokes.

“Because you’re my favourite,” Lena repeats sincerely and as Kara falls into the quiet solace building around her she wonders if she should have called Mon-El. Not because Lena’s hold hasn’t made her feel genuinely calm for the first time for a while, or because her gentle touches don’t make her feel constantly protected without being overwhelming.

Simply because at times like this aren’t you supposed to call your boyfriend? Aren’t you supposed to think the comfort they offer is greater than most, if not all? Aren’t you supposed to tell them about your problems, to let them help you through the hard times? Aren’t you supposed to want them in times like this?

(Isn’t Kara supposed to want Mon-El in times like this?

She doesn’t).

Mon-El is overt affection and overzealous attempts to impress. He’s brash, and rash, and a little too self involved, a lot self serving. That’s what she likes about Lena. Her softness. Her understanding. Her quiet, gentle touches that never make Kara feel crowded, just... comforted, protected, warm.

Kara wonders if being held by a friend should feel like this, if it should feel like maybe holding the weight of the world isn’t so bad as long as Lena is willing to hold her hand through it - tough times and all. Kara thinks, for the first time really thinks, as she lulls herself to sleep to the beat of Lena’s heart, that Alex might just be alright if Maggie makes her feel anywhere near as safe as this, and maybe that sounds weird but it’s not because that’s what friends are for.

_It’s what friends are for_.

* * *

Lena feels... happy.

For the first time in a long time, Lena actually feels happy.

She’s working on a project that could be revolutionary, that could truly help people, that could finally perhaps turn the Luthor name around for good and she’s having lunch with Kara (if she’s being honest with herself, the second might just bring her more joy). A lunch that she had rescheduled three meetings to be able to attend. It was worth it though. For the smile Kara sends her way when she appears at her office door, Lena thinks almost anything would be worth it.

“Lena! What are you doing here?” Kara exclaims in question, already up on her feet and rushing towards Lena to scoop her up in a bone crushing hug - thankfully not quite literally, though Lena could think of worse ways to go.

“I kept cancelling on you and I can’t very well ostracise the only friend I have in National City, so I brought lunch.” Lena lifts the hand that isn’t wrapped around Kara to show her the bag of food she brought with her. She laughs as she feels Kara hug her tighter for a second with a pleased grin before her gaze turns suspicious as she eyes the bag.

“It’s not kale is it?”

“No, it’s not kale, you dork.” Even Lena would admit that getting Kara to eat kale was a lost cause, not that she was just going to sit back and watch her eat junk food all the time, Kryptonian or not. But she could get back to that tomorrow, after she had enjoyed the grin on Kara’s face when she realised Lena had brought her chilli cheese fries from Noonan’s.

“Thank Rao. Oh, we should eat on the balcony, it’s lovely this time of year.” Kara’s hand has slipped into hers and began leading her in that direction before Lena can even think to reply, before Lena can even begin to comprehend what the looks being sent their way as they stroll hand in hand through the bullpen actually mean. Kara doesn’t even seem to notice them at all, too focused on her goal and Lena will admit that it’s nice - the view, the flowers, the way Kara’s eyes light up at it all.

Nice enough that Lena perhaps forgets to listen a little bit. Or, in other words, Lena almost completely stops listening to Kara’s story about the latest fluff piece Snapper had stuck her on because Lena was a little too preoccupied thinking about how pretty Kara looked when she got passionate about something, or when she got excited, or when she was just generally existing.

Kara was beautiful...

And also seemingly waiting patiently for Lena to reply to something.

“I’m sorry, I completely missed that,” Lena admits and can’t help the small smile that takes over her lips when Kara offers an eye roll in return, all the while grinning good-naturedly at Lena’s newly acquired habit of spacing out when Kara was involved.

“I asked if you were finally going to tell me about this new mystery project of yours?”

“Are you finally going to admit you know far more about science than you’ve been letting on?” Lena knows that she does. Lena knows that Krypton was leagues ahead of anything on Earth, that Lex had been equally afraid and awed at their knowledge, at the simple discovery that humans were back in the Dark Ages next to Kryptonians. But Lena wasn’t afraid.

Curious? Yes.

Intrigued? Definitely.

She had witnessed firsthand the look of barely concealed excitement on Kara’s face when Lena gave her an exclusive tour of her lab, a look that said she knew exactly what everything was, knew exactly how they worked (or how to actually get them to work rather than have them sit in a scrap pile of things Lena promised herself she would eventually get back to when she was less annoyed that they wouldn’t go her way).

“Touché.” Kara looks thoughtful for a moment before she steels herself, leaning her elbows on the table in front of her and directing her full attention to Lena, eyes full of determination, mouth curved into an arguably excited smile. “Okay, hit me.”

“What do you know about quantum entanglement?”

“On a basic level – it’s when the quantum state of a particle cannot be described independently of another, even when they’re separated by a large distance. It essentially suggests that acting on a particle here would instantly influence a connected particle elsewhere, hence why it’s so integral to teleportation.”

“ _Theoretically_ ,” Lena prompts.

“It was a little less theoretical on Krypton,” Kara says with a smirk and a gleam in her eyes that says she knows exactly what that sentence is going to do to Lena, that says she knows exactly what to say to bring out the excited side of her. She’s right, of course.

“Oh this is going to be fun.” And it is. It is fun learning about concepts Lena had never even heard of, had never even thought about looking into. It is fun watching Kara become so animated, and excited, and uninhibited. It is fun to know that Kara is getting a chance to be herself, to be free, to be open about her heritage and her upbringing, a chance to use the knowledge she had locked away inside of herself in order to fit in, to blend, to hide.

Lena thinks she could listen to Kara talk about science forever. She _would_ happily let her talk about it forever. Sadly her phone buzzes with a reminder that she has tests scheduled in twenty minutes as Kara is halfway through a rant about the dangers of ignoring global warming, and Lena is abruptly reminded that she has other things to do in life besides getting lost in Kara’s eyes and words.

 “I’m so sorry to cut this short but I really have to get back,” Lena says apologetically as Kara quietens down, evidently noticing Lena’s preoccupation with her phone.

“Oh no, I’m sorry for rambling for so long.” Lena’s certainly not sorry for it, almost as much as she’s not sorry for hugging Kara for way longer than she should. Although, in her defence, Kara makes no move to stop the hug either to the point where Lena wonders when it stops being a hug and just becomes two women holding each other on a balcony (probably somewhere around the midway mark of the hug but Lena’s not complaining - Kara’s hugs are easily the best part of her day).

Lena finds herself wondering if Kara can hear how fast her heart is racing, how quickly her blood is pulsing through her veins as Kara slightly pulls away but keeps her arms wrapped around Lena’s waist, her forehead an inch away from resting against Lena’s own. Lena almost does it. She almost lets herself fall into Kara, almost lets herself get caught up in the moment. Almost.

“I’m really glad you found a project you’re passionate about because I truly believe you’re going to change the world, Lena Luthor.” There had been few people in Lena’s life that actually claimed to care about her, see potential in her, thought she could do anything she put her mind to. She’d lost two of them, both to madness, one their own and the other the insanity of someone else. Maybe that’s what made Kara so special - that she stayed, that she kept fighting, that she had hope in Lena, _for_ Lena.

(Or maybe it was that Kara was the first person Lena truly believed).

“I don’t know about that,” Lena replies, feeling almost bashful under Kara’s sure gaze, under the weight of the knowledge that she was going to _try_ , and _try_ , and _try_ until this machine worked just so she could know what Kara looked like when she was proud, just so she could be the reason for it.

“Well I do, and I have enough faith in you for the both of us.”

“Thank you, Kara. For always believing in me.”

“Thank you for always earning it.” Lena is pressing her lips to Kara’s cheek before the thought has even fully passed through her mind; before she can question where the line between being endeared and being enamoured lies (the slow and tender kiss is surely planted within the latter).

Everything seems heated for a single moment. Everything feels tense for a split second. Everything feels charged as Lena slowly drags her lips away until she attempts to brush away her lipstick mark with her thumb and chuckles when all she manages to do is smudge it over Kara’s face.

But Kara doesn’t laugh.

Kara’s isn’t laughing and then suddenly Lena’s laughter is harshly catching in her throat because Kara is watching her lips, examining the curve of her fading smile, surveying the dying shade of morning applied lipstick. Watching. Staring. Studying. And then all that Lena can think of is kissing her. All that Lena can think is that Kara might just be thinking of kissing her too, might just be wondering what would happen if Lena had pressed her lips to her mouth instead of her cheek.

Lena clears her mind before she does anything amazingly stupid, clears her throat before Kara does something she’ll only come to regret. It seems to have the desired effect as Kara’s eyes snap up to hers, a blush following smoothly up her neck to rest upon her cheeks. And maybe Lena’s still a little bit stupid because she can’t help but press her lips to Kara’s untouched cheek.

“Might as well make it even,” Lena murmurs as she smudges her lipstick over Kara’s cheek with a smile that she’s really not sure she manages to pull off in her shaken state. “You should swing by my lab later, I have a feeling you could really help me with a few projects I’m stuck on.” And maybe (definitely) Lena just really wants to see Kara again soon.

“You _and_ science? Sounds amazing.” Kara smiles. Lena wants to kiss her.

“Good. Have a good day, Kara.” _God she wants to kiss her._

“You too, Lena.” She really shouldn’t kiss her.

Lena finally makes the move to slip out from Kara’s arms, almost convinces herself to dive back in as Kara’s hand runs down her arm until only their fingers are connected. Kara squeezes Lena’s hand briefly, dropping the hold in the next second and Lena immediately misses her warmth, immediately begins thinking of ways she can reasonably end up in Kara’s arms again.

Lena wonders if this is really just friendship as she can’t help but look back towards Kara and catches her watching Lena with bright eyes and an arguably longing smile. Lena wonders if this is really what friendship is as she finds herself offering an utterly dorky, completely un-Luthor like wave as she leaves, which Kara excitedly returns in an instant. Lena wonders if this is really what just friends do as she hears the murmurs of Kara’s co-workers – _wasn’t she with that Mike dude? Kara and a Luthor, huh? Well you would definitely need a lot of sunshine to melt that heart of ice._

(This can’t be what friends are...

They can’t just be friends...

Lena really wants to be more than just friends).

* * *

 

It’s weird.

Sitting in her apartment, staring at the ceiling and willing herself not to cry, Kara thinks that it’s weird that everything is just... over (the again goes unspoken in her mind).

It’s weird that all the Daxamites are just gone, weird that the fight is so suddenly done, weird that Mon-El isn’t rifling through her fridge and making some ridiculous comment or another. But maybe weird isn’t the right word. Eerie... Unsettling... _Familiar_.

It’s familiar. The weight in her chest. The feeling of isolation. The way Kara doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know anything beyond the indent she’s left of her body in the couch and the muffled sound of the TV screen that goes unwatched. It’s familiar. Losing things. Losing people. Losing another little bit of hope from an optimism that used to be unbreakable.

What’s less familiar is the rapping at her door, the elevated heartbeat that lingers beyond it, the repeated mantra of _please open up_. She knows it’s Lena before she opens the door, knows the tempo of her pulse, the pitch of her breath, had memorised everything about her after the third time she was directly in the line of fire, had double checked her facts after the ordeal with Alex.

“Lena!” Kara’s not sure why she goes for surprise. Lena knows that she’s Supergirl, knows that it takes Kara all of two seconds to work out who’s at the door, knows that she always checks ever since Alex went on a ten minute rant about how if she _can_ do it, she _should_ do it for safety reasons.

Maybe it’s an attempt to draw Lena’s attention away from the evidence littering her apartment that she hasn’t left it other than for Supergirl duties, to draw her attention away from the smoke and dirt that she hasn’t washed from her skin since she stopped a house fire three days ago, to draw her attention away from all the signs that scream _I’ve been moping_.

Whatever the reason, the exclamation seems redundant as Kara takes note of the anxiously forlorn look on Lena’s face as she refuses to lift her gaze to meet Kara’s worried one. Suddenly, Kara forgets all about the noodle stain on her shirt, and the fact that she hasn’t ran a brush through her hair all day despite flying around for most of it. Suddenly all Kara can see is Lena curling in on herself, shutting herself down, attempting to shut the world out.

She doesn’t hesitate to slip her forefinger under Lena’s chin, is gentle as she raises her face in order to catch her eyes, is even softer when she sees the unshed tears in Lena’s eyes, the tremble of her lip. Kara doesn’t halt for a second before she’s pulling Lena fully into her home and into her arms.

“I’m sorry.” It’s cracked, and broken, and whispered breathlessly against Kara’s neck. It’s drowned in dripping tears, and half trapped by a thick throat and heavy chest. It’s small, and timid, and hindered by a thousand unspoken apologies and wordless fear.

“What?” Kara asks and Lena’s out of her arms and pacing before the question is even fully formed, before the whole word has even slipped past her lips.

“I’m the reason you lost Mon-El. I’m the reason he can’t come back to Earth. I’m the reason you lost someone you loved, and I’m the reason you’re hurting, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Kara, and I’ve been trying to think of ways to tell you for the past five days but I thought maybe you wanted space since you haven’t replied to any of my texts, or picked up my calls, and I was going to give it to you but I just really needed you to know that I’m sorry because I can’t lose you, Kara. You’re the one person I can’t handle losing and _I’m so sorry_.”

Kara wants to tell Lena that it’s not her fault, that she only did what was necessary, what people asked of her. Kara wants to tell Lena that she doesn’t blame her, wants to admit that she didn’t message Lena because she thought she might need space, that she might be angry that Kara was the reason she had to make that device. Kara wants to tell her that _she’s_ sorry – sorry Lena was put in that position, sorry she hadn’t gone to see her straight away, sorry she ever made Lena doubt herself.

Kara actually says, “I don’t think I’ve ever really heard you ramble,” because she’s an idiot.

“Sorry,” Lena slips out again, pausing her pacing for a moment to regard Kara, to take in the sight of the best friend she hadn’t seen in days. Kara almost wished she had simply continued attempting to burn holes in her floor, if only so she didn’t have to watch the shift of Lena’s expression.

She can’t quite work out what the look is as she lets the silence extend for a moment. At first she thinks Lena’s face darkens as she takes in Kara’s dishevelled appearance, but then it seems more like relief. Relief that she’s finally getting to lay her eyes on Kara at all, relief that Kara is still standing, still breathing, still more or less whole, relief that Kara is still sending her that small, gentle smile that Kara realised she always saves just for Lena.

It’s tamer than she smiles she sends Alex, warmer than the ones she dishes out to Maggie, softer than the ones she saves for Winn, brighter than the ones she gives James, a whole different ballpark to the ones of true, unspoken understanding that she reserves for J’onn.

(It’s made for Lena.

Made for times like these).

“You need to stop apologising. None of this is your fault, Lena. In fact, you’re the reason that people are still living, breathing, still playing with their kids in the park. You’re the reason everyone is okay.” Lena had saved them. Lena had saved them all and now she was berating herself for it despite it being Kara who pushed the button, Kara who made the final decision, Kara who made Mon-El stay and inadvertently caused it all in the first place.

“Except you.”

“If I asked you to go somewhere with me, would you say yes?” Kara asks, already slipping her casual clothes off to reveal her suit underneath. She has a feeling Lena will agree, has a feeling that even if she hesitates she’ll eventually give into puppy eyes and pouted lips (she always does).

“I’d go anywhere with you,” Lena says resolutely and Kara falters. It’s not the first time Lena has shocked her and she knows it won’t be the last but it definitely hits her the hardest. It hits, slams, crashes into her because Lena trusts her, without question, without hesitation, she trusts her, despite having been betrayed by almost everyone else in her life. She chose Kara. In some odd way, she chose Kara and that means more than Kara can verbalise.

“Even flying?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Kara’s acutely aware of that, doesn’t think she could forget it if she tried, and not just because she almost lost Lena, but because she could still feel the ghost of Lena’s arms wrapped around her, is still haunted by the hot breath on her neck, the hammering heart hitting against her own chest, still knows how stupidly charmed she was by Lena’s awkward ‘ _I know you’re really Kara in that suit but I’ll believe your ridiculous coffee excuse’_ smile.

“Good because we’re going to need to fly for this.”

“Then by all means,” Lena says and Kara bends to swiftly sweep her off her feet. It’s better than last time, as Lena slips her arms around Kara’s neck, shifting impossibly closer. It’s calmer than last time as Lena smiles softly, her fingers reassuringly playing with the hairs on the nape of Kara’s neck as Kara slowly begins to hover off the floor, going slowly to check Lena is really okay with it all.

The moment Lena sends her a soft, content smile, is the moment that Kara takes her cue to take off out the window and across the skies. She calms slowly at the steady beat of Lena’s heart and disappearance of all evidence that she’d been crying as she instead stares at the sky in awe.

Kara can’t help the smile that takes over her face at Lena’s audible gasp when Kara sets them down at their destination. She knows exactly what the cause of it is; knows that her reaction to it had been much the same when she first discovered this place after moving to National City.

It’s the stars that do it, the sheer ability to actually see them that takes your breath away, that makes you feel like you’re further away from the ‘real world’ than you usually are. Kara cried the first time she saw them. She’d felt a little ridiculous, staring up at the sky and crying at the sight of the stars but they did something to her, made her feel calm when she was overwhelmed, gave her solace when she needed a haven, acted as an ear when she needed to share her troubles without burdening the people in her life with any more.

Kara cried because they reminded her of home.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It really is.” Kara’s not quite looking at the sky when she replies, a little too enamoured with the broad smile that’s painted itself across Lena’s mouth. She turns to the stars before Lena can realise, before Kara can fully berate herself for how ridiculously cheesy that was, but as she stares up at the sky, all she can think is how stupid she’s been, _is being_.

Stupid to have not realised it all sooner. Stupid to have played it all off as simple friendship. Stupid to have thought the way Lena made her stomach whirl and her mind blank was normal. Stupid to not have realised that she was a little in love with Lena’s smile, and her brain, and her heart.

Stupid to have not realised she was a little in love with Lena.

But this wasn’t the time for it - not after what happened, not after what was lost, not after Lena had spent the past few days blaming herself for things that weren’t her fault. Now was about making Lena realise she wasn’t the reason Kara was down, that what she did was right, that she was the good one in all of this, nothing like the ‘Luthor’ she was always afraid of becoming.

“Why’d you bring me here?”

“There are three main places in the world I go when I can’t get my head straight - Alex, the diner and here.” Lena eyes Kara curiously as she purposely focuses on the stars, evidently waiting for Kara’s explanation as to why this place in particular, why this sky, why these stars. “I can see Rao from here.”

“Oh, Kara.”

“Usually I come here when I miss my home, when everything gets too much and I need to remind myself what it is that I’m fighting for. Sometimes I come when I’m confused, or troubled, or need some guidance. I often come when I feel like a bad person.”

“And what reason is it today?” Kara lowers herself to the ground at the question, waits for Lena to follow suit and lay beside her before she even truly thinks about the answer. She supposes it’s a bit of everything. She knows it ultimately comes down to mostly one thing.

“I don’t miss Mon-El. Not in the way that I should, not for the reasons I should.” It’s freeing to say it aloud. Freeing and terrifying. Freeing because it’s the truth that’s been hovering like a dark cloud in the back of Kara’s mind. Terrifying because she shouldn’t feel this way, because there’s a part of her that’s worried what Lena will think of her, because, despite his flaws, Mon-El loved Kara and she couldn’t even seem to find it in herself to truly miss him.

“There’s no right way to miss someone.”

“But that’s the thing – I don’t miss _him_ , I miss what we could have been. I miss not having to regulate my strength every time I touch someone. I miss having someone who understands what it’s like to lose everything you’ve ever known. I miss the idea of what Mon-El could have given me more than anything he ever actually did. He was brash, and egotistical, and sexist, but I was hoping one day we might fit, if only so I could hold someone’s hand when things got tough.”

Kara makes an effort not to startle when Lena’s hand slips into hers (she still does). She gives everything she has not to stare down at their joined hands, not to jolt when Lena takes it a step further and slips her fingers into the gaps Kara’s fingers leave behind.

Still, she can’t stop the voice at the back of her mind that says one wrong move could break a bone; one forgetful moment could cause unforgettable pain. But, then again, she also can’t stop the voice that’s finally taking note of how perfectly Lena’s hand fits in hers, how nice it feels. The voice that is overcome with how surprisingly calloused Lena’s skin is, how not even her extensive array of expensive mouisturisers could hide how many hours she spent hunkered down in a lab.

Kara can’t stop thinking about how Lena makes her feel at home.

“You can always hold mine; just maybe don’t squeeze too hard until I get my replica red sun prototype working.” _Red sun prototype_. _Lena was building a red sun prototype, presumably for Kara._ _Lena was building something for Kara, to help Kara._

“You’ve been trying?” Kara asks, fingers trembling in Lena’s hand, eyes resolutely staring at the sky.

She can’t look at her.

Not yet.

Not when she feels like her heart is attempting to piece itself back together in her chest with each second Lena holds her. Not when she knows she’ll probably do something irrevocably stupid if she looks, like confess that feeling, or just outright kiss Lena because despite Kara often struggled putting words to the thoughts bumping haphazardly around in her brain.

“There’s a part of you that always holds back when we hug and so I thought I’d work out a way for you to give it your all, a red sun seemed like the most viable option. Obviously it’s all for purely selfish reasons.” Kara can’t help but chuckle at the way Lena immediately tries to downplay it, can’t help but let a smile take her face hostage as she hears Lena’s own lips part in a wide smile, hears Lena’s heartbeat skip at the laughter.

“Purely selfish, huh?”

“My scientific mind is very curious about what a true Kara Zor-El hug would be like. I hypothesise it’s rather otherworldly.” The squeeze Kara feels to her hand suggests Lena knows the exact pun she just made, and of course she does. Lena Luthor is a nerd. A nerd whose hand Kara cannot wait to squeeze with abandon in return. A nerd who Kara cannot wait to hug without care, and yet with complete and total care. A nerd who Kara cannot wait to kiss without worrying about breaking her nose, or chipping a tooth, or snapping a bone when her hands can’t help but wander.

(A nerd that Kara is way more in love with than she ever expected to be).

“Maybe I could help?” Kara offers in an attempt to speed up the process in any way possible, and maybe also in an attempt to spend as much time with Lena as she can in any way possible.

“I’d like that.”

“Do you think I’ll ever find someone who makes me feel normal?” It’s a charged question. A surface question that hides what Kara really wants to ask – _do you think I’ll find someone who will love me, wholly and unequivocally (do you think you’ll ever love me wholly and unequivocally?)_

“If that’s what you want I think you’ll have people lined up through the streets who will gladly try. But honestly, I don’t think love is supposed to make you feel normal, Kara. I think it’s supposed to make you feel extraordinary.”

“Have you ever felt extraordinary?” Another charged question.

“Yes.” Another clear answer. It’s then that Kara turns her head to Lena and finds green eyes staring back at her with startling clarity. She wonders how long Lena has been watching, how long she’s been waiting to make contact, how long the quiet tenderness had been shining in her gaze.

The quiet kind of tenderness that reminds Kara of the way James used to look at her before she wondered if she was broken, the way Jeremiah used to look at Eliza before he was stolen away, the way Maggie looked at Alex when they got her back, or when Alex pulled hidden alcohol from somewhere in Kara’s house, or whenever Alex was simply breathing in general.

“Well good, because you, Lena Luthor, are the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever met.”

“Likewise.” They feel like admissions.

Asservations.

_Confessions._

Confessions of something more, something that will go unspoken for another night as Kara holds Lena’s hand and tells her all about the stars, about how different they look from Earth, about how she still finds them beautiful despite the pain they may inspire on her worst of days. Confessions of something wordless that Kara fully intends to vocalise, something she fully intends to reach out and grab with both hands.

(Lena listens with apt attention and adds sporadic stories of her own).

_Soon._

(Lena smiles like a sunny day in the height of winter).

_Very soon._

* * *

 

Kara’s trying to ask her out...

She thinks...

She hopes.

Lena is around ninety percent sure that Kara is trying to ask her out, and by around she means that after compiling a list, and analysing all possible scenarios, and then factoring in her perhaps sometimes overactive imagination, she concluded that Kara was definitely trying to ask her out (of course then Lena adjusted for self doubt and the ‘definitely’ quickly shifted to a ninety percent sure).

The first time it dawned on Lena was a month after stargazing, a month after the attempted invasion and the subsequent disaster, a month after Lena probably single-handedly funded the college tuition of her local bakers children from buying Kara ‘ _I’m sorry’_ and ‘ _feel better’_ pastries.

A month after Lena half confessed, mostly implied, her love.

It comes after game night when Lena stays behind to help Kara clean up. They both know Kara could do it faster on her own but neither say that out loud as they dance around each other to clear plates and glasses at human speed. Neither say anything when Kara pours two glasses of wine and leads Lena to the sofa once it’s all done, despite them both knowing Kara hates drinking wine (human wine, at least), because they both know it’s an excuse.

An excuse for Lena to stay half an hour more. An excuse meant to give Kara more time to build up her nerve, to figure out her words. It’s after five minutes of silent hand wringing, and sly looks that aren’t so sly, that Lena begins to wonder if Kara is going to do something about the elephant in the room. The huge, _huge_ , elephant that was wearing a bright, flashing, in your face neon sign that read _you’re in love with each other!_

And Kara does ask Lena out, manages to get almost all the way through the invitation before she immediately starts backtracking and just repeatedly dropping the words friends, or pals, or buds in every few sentences just to clarify that she means a friendly outing date and not a _date_ date.

Lena agrees, holds Kara’s hand for two hours, buys her ice cream when she pouts, pretends for Kara’s sake that she doesn’t notice her abnormally sweaty palms as she drops Lena at her door and tries for the second time to ask her out properly (pretends that she hasn’t been treating it like a date, pretends that the woman at the ice cream parlour hadn’t exclaimed they were the cutest couple ever as Kara spluttered and blushed). But Kara fails to ask her out again and Lena doesn’t push as she presses a kiss to a still blushing cheek and disappears into her building.

Kara tries to ask Lena out five more times after that, and truthfully each one just gets more disastrous than the last, though Lena never pushes. She knows she could ask. She knows she could just go right out and ask Kara instead, but after what she’s been through Lena wants Kara to be able to set the pace, to be able to decide if she really wants it, to be able to feel like she still has some power over the events in her life even when the universe keeps trying to prove she doesn’t.

So Lena’s waiting... and waiting... and waiting some more, but she’s nothing if not stubborn once she’s set her mind to something - hence why she’s huddled in her lab at one in the morning, frustrated and frazzled, as she attempts to finally get her red sun prototype to work (she’s absolutely sure that she’s almost got it).

Lena doesn’t notice Kara until she’s standing directly beside her workstation and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t almost fall straight off her seat before she took note of the pastel jumper and sensible slacks. The apologetic smile on Kara’s face isn’t aimed at Lena for long before Kara is off pacing the length of the desk in front of her.

Lena’s concern grows with every new step because Kara’s pacing loudly when her footsteps usually make no sound, almost like she’s gliding across the ground. Her brow is furrowed where it’s usually smooth. Her lips are downturned into a serious frown where Lena is used to bewitching smiles and blindingly bright teeth.

Truthfully Kara looks scared, and panicked, and more than a little annoyed at herself and Lena, well, Lena’s essentially just trying to not reach forward and smoothen out the crinkle on Kara’s forehead. A battle that she almost loses on more than one occasion.

“Go to dinner with me,” Kara blurts as she paces. Lena freezes.

“I do believe we’ve already made dinner plans for tonight, Kara,” Lena quips because she needs to know if this is really what she thinks this is, if Kara is really, finally, totally sure that this is what she wants, that Lena is what she wants because she doesn’t think she can handle giving herself to something fully once again only to have it ripped away at the last second.

“We did, but I mean, _go to dinner with me_. Go to dinner with me, and let me buy you flowers and pick you up, and awkwardly tell you how pretty you are with a thousand fumbled words that only really make one coherent sentence. Let me fight to be the one to pay and then promise to get it next time when you inevitably thrust your card a little too aggressively towards the waiter.”

Lena laughs.

Kara smiles, stops pacing long enough to fully catch Lena’s gaze before carrying on.

“Let me walk you home and linger a little too long with you outside because I’ve been thinking about what it would be like to kiss you since I first convinced you to eat a way too greasy burger and you did that ridiculous, too hot to be done in public, moan. _Let me take you to dinner. Let me take you on a date.”_

“Yes,” Lena says simply, grinning at the smile that so quickly takes over Kara’s face. “On one condition,” she adds, her easy grin morphing into something more mischievous.

“Anything.” Kara nods quickly, seriously, emphatically.

“Kiss me now because I’ve been thinking about it since that waitress thought you were my girlfriend.” Honestly it was probably weeks before that. If Lena thinks about it she can’t remember the first time she thought about kissing Kara - she perfectly remembers the first time she almost acted on it, remembers the first time she thought Kara might actually kiss back.

But the first time she thought about it? Really, _really_ thought about it? She had absolutely no clue. She supposes it’s something that’s always lingered in the back of her mind, ever since Kara introduced herself under the watchful eye of Clark Kent with shaky syllables and fidgeting fingers.

But Lena won’t admit that... not yet at least.

“You mean she wasn’t even asking you out and you just let me get all stupid and jealous anyway?” ...yes. Yes, she definitely did do that. In her defence she thought it was for the greater good at the time, and she maybe also enjoyed the passive jealousy that Kara was exuding, but only like a little bit (read: a fair amount).

“The deal is about to expire,” Lena prompts in lieu of explaining herself and watches, curious and intrigued, as Kara’s whole demeanour shifts as she thinks back to Lena’s request.

“Oh, right.” Kara blushes, stumbles her way across the space separating them, fumbles to take Lena’s face in her hands, and then she kisses her. Kara kisses Lena and it’s so sure, and steady, and amazing and _Kara_. It’s so very Kara - full of contradictions, and half hidden secrets, and a passion that spreads from her toes to her head that’s finally been allowed to come to the surface.

Kara kisses with roaming hands. Hands that don’t quite know where to rest, don’t quite want to rest now that they’ve finally been granted the opportunity to wander. Her jaw, her neck, her shoulder, her hips. She kisses with a pliant mouth, and a devilish tongue, and teeth. _Oh God, the teeth_. Every time Kara nips at her lips, Lena thinks she might just melt, then reform at the touch of Kara’s tongue, only to melt once again.

Kara’s kisses are no less mind blowing when she picks Lena up for their date. Holding her hand is no less exhilarating even after they do it for three hours straight, proper dining etiquette be damned. Being complimented on how cute a couple they are is definitely better now that she can grin happily and press a soft kiss to the back of Kara’s hand.

Inviting Kara up is certainly more nerve wracking now that it has connotations, underlying meanings, strings. Kara’s timid but excited grin as she agrees is almost as intoxicating as the darker, slower one she offers up when she takes note of the prototype Lena finally finished sitting casually on her kitchen counter.

And so what if it’s their first date? They’ve practically been dating for a month, and well...

That’s what girlfriends do.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is c--and--b if anyone wants to prompt or whatever.


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